


Sisters three: The Beginning.

by Cdrash13



Series: Part one of Sisters 3 [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awesome Wanda Maximoff, Blood Magic, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Dark Magic, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Ireland, Magic, Marvel Universe, New Orleans, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Slow Burn, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-01-03 23:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21188024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cdrash13/pseuds/Cdrash13
Summary: In a universe filled with aliens, magic, and super heros...why not add witches to the mix?The story begins with a young Celtic witch, Isolde Grey. She had no choice in avoiding her fate, being gifted with abilities to invade the mind blood magic, she often isolates herself from the world; and sometimes her family.But her abilities get the attention of a certain Captain who thinks she'll be useful in finding his best friend. What happens when S.H.I.E.L.D. and Tony Stark find her on the radar? Can she manage to help Captain America and Sam Wilson while trying to keep her abilities under control?This is about her finding herself.Embracing the magic that is part of herself, even if it comes with a price.And finding acceptance through friendship that will blossom into a love that you never want to live without.





	1. You say witch like it's a bad thing...

_This was a mistake_. Isolde thought to herself. 

Isolde felt like a nomad, she never truly stayed put. She thought that having this crazy bohemian adventure would be freeing, helpful. Isolde snorted, what a joke. She had only set herself up for extreme anxiety by going on this crazy trip. he felt alone as she sat in her air BnB apartment. Romania..she had come to Romania on an impulse. She told herself it was a chance to learn about the different types of magic around the world, she tried to justify the long flight and the _huge _amount of distance she had created from her and her two sisters; but ultimately Isolde had come to Romania with a crazy notion that she might find herself. 

All she found was frustration as she sat on her bed alone. She glared at the plain white wall across from her, debating on either leaving the apartment of Romania altogether.

She never did well in plain spaces...they made her feel caged, trapped, _ frantic. _

Isolde hadn't enough noticed how tightly clenched her jaw was until hearing the light chime of her cellphone going off, a text message alert. _Marvin Gaye's September _softly filled the drab white studio apartment as Isolde glided to her phone. Picking it up the device with a smile, Isolde already knew who the text message was from...a happy reminder that she wasn't all alone; just alone halfway across the world from her favorite big sister. 

** _Iz, you settled in? You better not be dead! _ **

Nadine always did worry about her...as is the nature of a caring big sister. 

** _I'm settled just fine! Sorry I didn't let you know I got here safely. You know how my mind wanders..._ **

** _Yeah, you are sorry (Totally kidding, you are a piece of work though, sugar.) Yeah, about that. Your mind wandering to boys or food?_ **

God, did your sister know you well.

Y

** _First off, I was so nervous about flying that I couldn't even think about boys. Secondly, I had at least four sandwiches on the flight._ **

Isolde is the definition of a bottomless pit. if the girl doesn't have at least six sandwiches a day, something is deadly wrong.

_**Yeah? well, you got two more sandwiches to go then, Iz. **_ **Glad you're safe, have fun. Love you. **

"Iz." The nickname Nadine had given you since childhood. Isolde always felt a sense of calm when Nadine called her that, even halfway across the globe. 

** _Will do! Love you too. _ **

Isolde tossed her cellphone down on the small twin bed in front of her, huffing with frustration as she buried her face in her pale hands. She hated being away from her older sister, Nadine, who resided in New Orleans. The place where Isolde had grown up together with Nadine. They were close, best friends. Isolde had never left the Big Easy without Nadine, she had never been out on her own; not since she had left her actual birthplace: Ireland. 

Isolde stiffened instantly at the thought of Ireland. The taste of bile rising quickly in her throat. She couldn't think about her life before New Orleans, before moving in with Nadine's family, she couldn't think about the hell of her childhood. At least, not now. Not while she's alone in an all-white apartment, in Bucharest Romania, not knowing a soul or what to do; it was all too much and all too easy for her anxiety to get the better of her. 

She had to go out and do exactly what Nadine insist she do, get some sandwiches. 

* * *

_Isolde had never found her appearances to be...appealing. _

She always felt that her looks came off as wild, like a fox, if she were to choose an animal that represented her. Of course, Nadine said that Isolde always looked otherworldly, magical. Which is laughable when you think about it. Considering that Isolde is, a witch, it only made sense that she looked mythical; but Isolde never found beauty in her unique attributes, no...if anything, they made her feel more isolated. 

Isolde was tall for a girl, around 5'8. She had long arms that were littered with freckles, that over time had mutated from sun poisoning, turning the freckles from little dots to what resembled stars...Isolde never knew how to feel about the mutation. People often stared at her as if she was a rare spectacle, it didn't help that she had bright copper hair that held a slight wave to it; sliding down her waist and passed her bottom. Her hair always was slightly fuzzy, never shiny and soft looking. Though, Nadine often complimented Iz's red waves when braiding the mass of hair on her head. 

Isolde never showed it much, even in the sweltering heat in the Big Easy; but the entire left side of her body had burn scars. Deep and twisted tissue that made her look mangled if she didn't wear clothes to cover the scars. She didn't like that side of her body to be seen, hell, she didn't like any of her skin to be seen if she could help it. Often she wore oversized clothing, baggy and comfortable. Dresses that were in muted greens and brown that she would wrap leather belts around, to pull in her at her waist. 

Long sleeve jackets that were weighted, heavy and comforting against her skin. The edges of her clothes always with small handkerchief ends, giving a soft look of what resembled an earthly fairy as it would trail behind her when she walked. She liked to wear big clunky knee-high boots; Boots made for climbing and midnight snack runs. If her boots weren't covered in mud from messing around in swamps or the garden, then they were dotted with glitter from going out to Bourbon Street at 2 am with Nadine.

Iz ran her shaky fingers through her red waves, she couldn't shake the anxiety that was ever-present in her reflection. She was glad she had brought some of her makeup with her on the trip! She could at least try to cover the dark circles that were sitting under her eyes. Urg, her eyes. Isolde tied her loose side pancake braid with a light green ribbon, huffing as she pulled a few front tendrils to soften her features. Isolde had the most abnormal eyes she had ever seen, on anyone. Dark burnt orange with flecks of blue that gave her a constant look of an alert animal. 

After applying a small amount of concealer and foundation, she touches up her eyelashes with mascara; though Isolde doesn’t like drawing attention to her eyes...or any part of her body, for the matter, she still wants to try to look and feel appealing. Which is hard when her self esteem has never been that _great _to begin with. But, she looks presentable. 

Iz turns off the light in the bathroom, silently gliding to her open suitcase that lays on the floor next to the small twin bed. Isolde hadn’t unpacked due to arriving in the apartment with a fit of nerves from getting off the plane; she detested flying! And without Nadine to hold her hand and tease her the whole way through, it was all too easy for her resolve to crumble upon entering the small space. 

She practically kicked open the door and slammed it shut within a matter of seconds. Her suitcase landed with a loud _thud _onto the clean wood floors as she ran and jumped in the air to ceremoniously _plop _into the plush, all white, fluffy duvet bedspread that deflated under the weight of her body. She whined pathetically into the sheets, slightly deterred by the almost, _too clean _scent of the bedspread. 

Isolde looked up from her suitcase and snorted at the now messy bedspread that had been quickly torn apart by her anxiousness; or least, that’s what she blamed it on. Truth be told, Isolde was a messy person. It was in her nature to make nests in her sleeping places, it would be a miracle if she even slept in the bed; she had the abnormal habit of wandering off in the middle of the night to climb a tree with an oversized quilt and simply...drift off. 

A habit that Nadine detested, but Isolde _always _found it amusing. At least, until she would be woken by the harassing screams of her sister would who shake a wooden spoon up at her when she found Isolde asleep in the tree outside of their home.

Isolde smiled to herself at the memory. Settling on a dark green T-shirt that she tucked into her high waisted patchwork skirt. It flowed gently passed her boots that she laced up sloppily on the floor; traces of mud and glitter still evident as she stood up, rubbing out any remaining wrinkles that were still prominent in her casual outfit. She trodded to grab the leather satchel she had flung across the bedroom in her fit of madness, locked her apartment door, and skipped down the stair to exit the building.

She could do this! 

She could go out and find her way in a town that she knew nothing about!

She could definitely find food in a place where she didn’t speak the language. 

She had definitely screwed herself over in this situation. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky finds amusement in watching the reader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy lord Jesus...AN UPDATE. Read the endnotes for an important message, please.

Bucky couldn’t help but be amused by the flustered redhead across from him. _ Poor thing... _He thought to himself. 

The girl hadn’t noticed him, but then again, no one ever really noticed him. He couldn’t miss this young thing though! She stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the pale colors of peaking spring; she was vibrant...strange, and completely out of her element. 

She wasn’t from here, that was evident from how she held her posture upon entering the market. Curiosity and shyness mingling together as she would glance all around her, almost twirling, as her long skirt with flow around her gently. This girl radiated something unusual...she was fun, youthful, and completely oblivious to his amused smirk as he watched her try to figure out where she wanted to go.

He had just finished gathering his weekly needs from the market, he felt more comfortable nowadays. His social skills had come leaps and bounds, at least for his standards. He knew and fully accepted that he would never be the same James Buchanan Barnes who oozed charm naturally; he accepted that he was doomed to either live on the run...or quietly in Romania; which, he didn’t mind the thought of.

He especially didn’t mind watching the pretty redhead tourist fumble around carelessly through the fruit stands. She was completely oblivious to her whimsical behavior and striking features attracting the glances of envious women and intrigued men; she was thoughtless, sloppy. If she didn’t become aware of her surroundings she may attract unwanted attention; which isn’t smart for anyone as pretty as her. 

Bucky stopped himself suddenly across from the girl who was now looking as bright red cherries a few stands away from him; _she caught his attention, yes_. But he wasn’t someone who would go out of there way to flirt with a pretty girl, a tourist. Hell, he hadn’t even bothered to speak to anyone in Romania except for his boss and when he haggled in the market place. Bucky was happy with the silent work that he carried out daily, he didn't mind the long hours and under the table cash. It wasn't messy and left to traces back to him. 

He was happy to blend into the background, to go unnoticed. He was thankful for the minimal lifestyle that kept him comfortable and safe. He didn't need or want much...just to be left alone. And to look at the pretty girl in front of him...he couldn't deny that. As much as he wanted to so scoff, chew the inside of his mouth like usual when he became weary of the large crowds around him, he just couldn’t seem to call it day. Not once he heard her laugh, hearty and full of body as she grinned happily at the fruit stand vendor who spoke rough English.

She spoke English, but her voice...her accent, was strange. A mixture of southern twang with a hint of something else, he couldn’t place it exactly.

He grimaced. Ultimately, he was lonely. Sure, he had come to terms with being cursed to only have the company of the heaps of notebooks that flooded his apartment; full of scattered memories and jumbled images that often didn’t make sense to him. But some part of himself was disgusted with lingering too long on this girl, he didn’t need or have a reason to even think about the redhead that was no purchasing what appeared to be an ungodly amount of cherries; even for one person. Jesus, was she going to eat all of those herself? There were at least six portions of cherries in that bag.

He knew in the pit of his stomach that he had been staring too long. He saw the shift in her posture as she must’ve felt his gaze, _ Shit. He thought. _ But as she turned to look around her, trying to find him as her attention left the now pouting fruit vendor, clearly saddening that the young lady no longer cared for his compliments, Bucky felt his breath hitch as their eyes met. _ Holy shit, her eyes! _He had never seen eyes like hers before; they were like fireworks. A deep orange with dots of blue that he thought was the prettiest color combination he had ever seen.

_ Leave. _His mind hissed. 

Bucky came too, remembering where he is, _ WHO _ he is. A man in hiding who doesn’t have time or need to indulge in a girl he’ll never see again. Then another thought crosses his mind, she’s staring back at him. _ Oh, shit. _What if she was a threat? He had to admit, it made sense. Disarm a victim with sweetness, come off as naive and gentle. It would throw off anyone. But Bucky knew better. He knew this girl wasn’t some master spy or assassin; She just a pretty thing, who had no idea that she should be approaching a massive man like him in the middle of Romania.

* * *

_Somewhere in New Orleans..._

Nadine looks up from her pot of gumbo that she just finished. Call it magic, call it luck, but every once and a while family has such a strong bond that they can sense when something is different, But Nadine's _Isolde is about to do something bad senses_ were tingling something _FIERCE. _

It probably involves some dumb boy who needs a haircut. Isolde had a type. 

“_Shit_. That dumb bit.” Nadine mumbled to herself, shaking her head in disapproval. 

The background noise of a history special of the Howling Commandos mingled with the tunes of soft jazz that flowed through the open windows of Nadine's home as she continued to prepare a meal for later this evening with her Grandma and Paw. Her mind kept wandering back to Isolde as Nadine tapped her wooden spoon on the pot of gumbo gently. "That girl better get her head on straight...Because God knows I ain't going to Romania to kick her skinny ass if she is messin and gommin. " 

Rolling her brown eyes, Nadine snorted. She shouldn't be so worried about Iz. This trip would be good for her! Even if their father was involved in making the trip happen...which, never settled well with either of the sisters; Anything involving Ector never set well with them both. And besides, all teasing aside...there was no way on God's green earth or a hope in hell that Isolde, one of the most awkward people in the entire world, could manage to meet a boy in Romania. 

But...it wouldn't hurt to give Iz call later and see for herself. Hopefully, Iz would just stuff herself silly with food like the bottomless pit she is. 

Nadine could only hope and pray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you take a guess at what Disney Princess inspired Isolde?
> 
> So, I'm going to edit the last few paragraphs from Bucky's POV. Some of it I don't care for...so it will be smoother later on :)


	3. Reverse retelling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A slight repeat of the scene of chapter 2 but from the readers perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me for retelling the previous chapter...
> 
> Ends notes for some explanations.

Isolde had always been _sensitive _to the emotions and intentions of others. It had been a personal curse for her to have the ability. It occurred in her youth, early on, when she had been able to predict what people would do before acting out. She often felt overwhelmed by the slew of emotions that would flood her senses when she was out in crowds. She described to Nadine like being a large room that has extreme echo, some voices shouting while others whispers, but none the less molded together with an uneasy pressure that would build up into her mind. 

It was overwhelming for her be out in public, despite her bubbly personality, she had her internal struggles like everyone else. She struggled to feel normal looking, especially with her _burn scar tissue… _

Isolde tried her best to look normal, appealing, and pretty. She had come to accept her scars as part of who she is, what she could be one day. She comes to find that people often thought her fuzzy hair was pretty, rather than dull (like how she found it to be.) 

But Isolde hated it when she felt people’s eyes on her. She knew she was drawing attention from people who were locals, watching the redhead tourist bumble her way through a market in hopes of trying to find she desired to snack on. 

Isolde had made blocking bracelets to help with the emotions of others, spells that she turned into beads in hopes of keeping her mind clear when she entered crowded spaces, but spells had to be replaced over time...and she just happened to forget them before leaving the apartment. 

Sometimes she ever smelled emotions. Sometimes people’s feelings carried the weight of a memory, a moment they loved. She could envision what they loved, tasted, felt, and saw. Nadine often had a scent of orange blossoms, warm and full of summer. Though, when she was angry...her scent would turn into something that reminded Isolde of burnt spices. 

She felt too much at this moment. 

She wanted to run back to the apartment and google map the closet restaurant near her and hope they had English translation (that was a definite probability.) And though her sense were flooded with racing thoughts of the people around her, something stuck out to her amongst the market stands. 

Something...someone, whoever it was felt deathly cold. They stuck out like a sore thumb to her. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly where they are amongst the sea of people, but they were close to the fruit stands. The better part of Isolde was screaming for her to ignore her curiosity, but frankly...she wanted some cherries and was curious to see who _frosty _was.

Isolde couldn’t understand a word of what was being spoken around her, she was hoping that maybe a clerk would take pity on her when she took an interest in something. But lucky for her, one of the many vendors spoke rough English. Allowing her enough time to get some bright red cherries while trying to lock down on the now standing still frosty. 

Isolde knew in the back of her mind that she should let the sense go, she should move on and go find her sandwich options; but she felt them near her, _ watching her. _And a part of her was afraid of knowing this. 

Nadine had already given her a speech about being careful in public. 

“Don’t get distracted and get lost.”Nadine started, pacing back and forth through the warmly lit living room in New Orleans. 

Isolde sat nestled into a hammock that was station into the corner wall of the living space, starring at the ceiling as one of her legs hanging off of the hammock that swayed lightly.

“Make sure to keep your phone on you. Speaking of, google places before you leave the apartment.”Isolde hadn’t bothered to reply to her sister, simply throwing one of her hands up with a thumbs up as a reply that she was hearing Nadine’s suggestions. 

“And for the love of God, Iz. Do not, and I mean _ do not _ go talk some stranger!” Nadine turning to Iz, point a finger at her while her stance turned sassy. “I don’t wanna get a phone call from you about some boy you’ve met over there.” At this, Isolde turned to Nadine, a sneer on Isolde’s lips. 

“Mother, Mary, and Joseph, Nadine! We know I’m just going to get dad off my back.” 

Nadine’s expression shifted from motherly to...something sad. Her brown eyes glinting with what Isolde found to be concern. Concern for her. 

“I know. I know that…” Nadine trailed off, walking towards the hammock. Nadine looked down at Iz, a milling emotions wafting over Nadine’s features as she pushed a curly strand of hair behind Isolde’s ear. 

“That’s why I want you to be careful. We know Ector is capable of..._ things. _” Isolde’s insides churred at Nadine’s implications. “I wouldn’t pass him to send someone to monitor you. God knows he’s hoping you’ll crack and come back into his life. I just...I know you’re smart Iz,” 

Nadine paused, taking her sister’s pale hand. Her left hand, the one with the burn tissue. Nadine’s grip comforting but firm. 

“When you agreed to go on this trip, with Ector’s money...you knew that means he wants something. He wants something from you...and I don’t like that.”

The Cajun accent slipping through Nadine’s words as she held Iz’s gaze. A hint of playfulness in the last sentence, but still carrying the weight of her warning. 

Iz never gave her word to Nadine that she would be careful. She never said or promised that she would behave. 

Isolde glanced around her, people starring at her. Probably from how out of place she looked, probably the fact that she was taking up space at the fruit stand when she should move. But frosty was close, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the man across from her was who she was playing hide and seek. 

He hadn’t moved much, mostly standing a ways from her. She couldn’t get a good look at him due to him hiding behind bustling shoppers. It didn’t help that he was completely covered up in a bulky jacket, ball cap hiding a portion of his face from her. 

She caught his sharp jawline, hiding under a little bit of scruff that added a rugged handsomeness to the stranger. She could tell he was huge, even from the thick jacket that covered his broad shoulders. Hos body language looked causal, from a normal pedestrians’ perspective, at least.

But considering she could sense people’s intentions, she couldn’t help but feel anxious as she searched for something in the man away from her. He wasn’t looking directly at her, per se; but he was aware of her. He was aware that she saw him, _ watching her. _

He was gauging her reaction to his starring. She was struggling to feel anything but ice from the man who was avoiding her gaze. Iz had only even been noticed for her oddities, a part of was fearful of Nadine’s warning, _ did her father send him? Was he here for her? _

Isolde knew it was risky, but she decided to take a step forward. She could only imagine Nadine screaming at her in the back of her mind. But if her father had sent this hulking man to watch her, she didn’t want it to seem like she hadn’t noticed...like she was afraid. 

But she was afraid. 

On the other hand, what if he was a creep? She was going to directly confront a guy about starring at her? God, she was impulsive. She was a moron. What she gonna say? _ Hey, heck off! _Yeah, intimidating on her part. 

She gripped her bag of cherries tightly as she began to talk over to the man. Maybe if she addressed the strangeness of the situation he would leave? Maybe if she confronted him or even asked why he was looking at her he would either be honest or apologize? 

She didn’t get a chance to find out. 

For a moment, the stranger peaked up, out from under his hat to make eye contact with her. If Isolde wasn’t so concerned that he was a threat, she would be pining over this guy. 

Steel-blue eyes with a hint of softness held her gaze. She faltered in her step, her breath hitching in her chest as clenched the bag of cherries tighter. He didn’t blink or move towards her, simply held her gaze while he waited for her to make a move. 

A ruckus started behind her, someone knocking into a stand so hard that it caused production to fall onto the ground, getting stomped on by panicked pedestrians. The sound of angry shouting and annoying huffs feeling the air as she turned to watch the scene unfold behind her. 

She grimaced, turning back to face the man who was only a few feet away from her. But she was greeted to nothing but emptiness, he was gone. Along with the feeling of ice…

Strange. She hadn’t picked up a scent on the man. Which only left her feeling unsettled as she shifted her weight. Deciding that she should go back to her mission in finding food for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, cinnamon rolls!
> 
> thank you for reading and keeping up with me.
> 
> I'm having major writer's block with the story. I'm working on my storytelling abilities but I've noticed that I have a different style in each of my fanfictions???? -shrugging-
> 
> I've had a really hard time delivering this story. I'm sorry it's short...
> 
> I'm working on it, I promise...
> 
> I'm a tad shy and anxious about sharing and writing -ugly crying-

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, sweet cinnamon rolls!
> 
> Thank you for giving this a read! My best friend and I created this story together. We've worked on it for the past year, but it was up to me to get my butt in gear and actually POST the beginning. 
> 
> So far, this will be a two-part series. The first, about Isolde. And the second will be about a character that you'll soon read about for a READER AND SAM WILSON FANFICTION. :D 
> 
> Please take a look at my Tumblr for my personal writing works: Cdrash13  
And give my Instagram a follow! Cdrash13


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